Agent 3 x Pickle
The deafening sound of a train’s roar echoed throughout the murky, dimly lit station, breaking the relative silence that had occupied the space before, leaving two figures to bask in its wake. With an indignant huff, the taller figure rose forth from its position against what seemed to be the base of an oversized blender. “This is so stupid…” the black-clad Octoling vented, crossing his arms in an expression of displeasure. “He leaves us here to go get crabby cakes so we can ‘get to know each other’! I, for one, think I know you all too well, and regrettably so.” He flinches, another set of fingers joining his. “Ah, so you think you know me well so soon?” The second figure, a sea-green Inkling, cloaked in a flowing black cape, steps closer to the taller boy. He smiles contently, leaning in to meet his junior shoulder-to-shoulder. “That makes me happy to hear… I know a lot about you, too, Pickle.” “No!” the Octoling, Pickle, barks, shaking free of the shorter boy’s grasp. “It’s not like that. You only know so much about me because you’re a creep.” Three paused at his words, staring blankly. It didn’t take long for him to recover, giving Pickle another smile, albeit smaller than the last. “Don’t be like that. I just like you, ok?” He twiddled his thumbs, and his expression grew more nervous as he looked the Octoling in the eye. Pickle hesitated in his words. He had forgotten how sensitive Three could get, so why was he being so harsh? Not that that mattered to him, why was he thinking about that? He shook his head to clear his thoughts, then spoke his mind. “Well, I don’t like you. Ever thought of that?” he spat, turning to fully face the Inkling. His throat tightened as he spoke, silently reminding him his words weren’t true. Despite this, with his pride in mind, he pressed on. “I don't like you. At all.” There was a period of silence following, as Three refused to meet his eyes. All of Pickle’s regret and sympathy was pushed into the deepest recesses of his mind he could move them as he stared him down. Three gave him another blank look. “I don’t think you understand…how much I like you.” A bead of sweat ran down Pickle’s face, nervousness setting in. “That’s it. Maybe I just need to show you... Yeah, that’s it.” Pickle took a hesitant step back. “W-what do yo--” His query was cut short by his legs being swept from beneath him. His head connected with the damp concrete, leaving a resounding thump to echo throughout the station. Pickle’s vision swam, the back of his head aching with the impact’s pain as he tried to blink the stars away. Three moved swiftly, straddling the Octoling to restrict his movement, wrapping his hands around his throat. Pickle choked, the dancing stars slowly fading, his vision slowly focusing. “What…” he sputtered. His hands weren’t squeezing hard enough to harm him, so he took the opportunity to speak. “What the hell are you doing?!” Pickle writhed under his weight, only to have his head slammed into the concrete once more. Three regarded him with empty eyes. “I’m making sure you can’t run.” He released a wistful sigh, staring at the pink-inked boy attempt to regain his bearings. “I didn’t really want it to happen this way. Too bad.” With little warning, the grip on Pickle’s neck released, and Three connected his lips with his. Pickle’s eyes widened, his body frozen in shock. Strangely, out of everything that just happened, this would bother him the most. Their tongues entwined, Pickle’s of course slacked, he could taste the faint minty flavor of the other boy’s breath and savor the smell that was indescribable and just so Three. Despite himself, he relaxed, his fingers slacking in the Inkling’s grip. Deep down, he’d known it. He liked Three, despite all of his snappy comments, and he was sure that he could tell, if not before, then now. Three pulled away, breaking the kiss, his fangs grazing his lip as he lowered his head. He flinched, an aching pain arising from his neck. The Inkling suckled the neck’s flesh, leaving no room for moderation or care for the amount of pain. Pickle shivered, and with a downwards glance, they locked eyes. Three released his bite on the other boy’s neck, and with a wipe of his mouth, gave Pickle a lopsided smile. “I see you aren’t complaining…” he noted, smile widening as the redness of Pickle’s cheeks burned. “I-I was just shocked is all! What do you think you’re doing?!” he barked, writhing once more. Three tutted, his smile still in place. “You should stop doing that.” The grip on his hands tightened, and without thinking, Pickle did as told. Three hummed in interest. “So it’s true.” he confirmed to himself. “You’re into that kind of thing. What a relief, huh?” Pickle sneered at him. “Into what? You think I’m enjoying this?” The Octoling spit in his face, a look of discontempt clear as day. “Hmm,” Three hummed, ignoring the offending spit dribbling down his face. “Well I mean… you don’t seem too worried about being treated like this. Plus, if your pants are anything to go by…” The shorter boy winked at him. “You’re a big masochist, huh? You’re dirtier than I thought, Eight.” Pickle shifted his legs together, a swirling mix of embarrassment and shock plastered on his face. “What-- no way… T-that’s not it at all!” Three only laughed in response, releasing his hands and sitting up. “Don’t worry, things will only get more interesting. I learned a few things while I was gone…” After a short pause, Pickle leaned forward off the ground, holding onto his neck out of sheer pain. “Gone? The hell are you talking about?” Three turned around in confusion, staring into Pickle’s eyes as though he muttered words that would only leave a baboon’s mouth. Then it struck Three with a sudden realization. “Oh right, you weren’t there. Basically, after I did my job in Octo Canyon and took care of that menace ‘DJ Octavio,’ I disappeared for a while. I went off the radar, worrying everyone in the Squidbeak Splatoon about my absence. Turns out,” Three let out a gesture of sarcasm, flailing his arms in the air, “surprise surprise, I died! And nobody came to my aid. Nobody except a strange creature who called himself ‘Goku.’” At this point, Three was turned completely away from Pickle, monologuing in his own box that he created for himself. “Goku wasn’t like anyone I had ever seen before. He taught me the ways of the ‘ancient ones,’ and promised to bring me back to life after he believed I was ready. That didn’t take very long, as to be expected from Yours Truly.” “What do you mean the ‘ways of the ancient ones’? You gonna put a curse on me or something? Do you really believe that stuff?” Pickle mocked Three, much to Three’s dismay. “Really? I went there myself, and you’re asking me if I believe it? Do you know how stupid you sound right now, Eight? God, I love that trait of yours.” Pickle, although flattered, chose to ignore Three’s comment on the matter. “I have a hard time believing of your tale.” Pickle reached for the locker that stood behind them, using it as a crutch to pull himself off the ground. “Considering what you just did to me, you don’t seem to be the most stable of people to believe a story from.” Three took this as a challenge, and let a big grin grow across his face. “Then let me show you, I’ll be glad to!” Without skipping a beat, Agent Three planted his feet a lengthy distance apart from one another, then crouched his knees, taking the pose of a sumo preparing for the ring. He removed his hands from his knees, and placed his elbows upon his hips, letting his hands float proportionate to his pecs. Pickle stared at Three with a heavy sense of judgement, questioning all of his life choices that led him to this moment. Once a brief moment had passed, Three released a lengthy scream, nearly knocking Pickle off his feet out of shock. A visible teal aura began to emanate from Three, growing in size and visibility the longer Three continued this strange ritual. “Alright, stop! I get it! You can channel the ancient ones! Stop it!” Pickle cried, but Three was far too lost within his current activity that he heard not a sound coming from anything but himself. What seemed like hours passed, though they were merely a single minute, and Three stood there, clothes and hair flaring, and a bright aura glowed around him that intimidated even someone as strong-willed as Pickle. “This is the power of the ancients.” Three said in a normal tone, standing straight as though nothing coming his way posed any threat to him. He walked forward one step, and raised his arm, pointing his palm at Pickle. Pickle was visibly panicking, sweat dripping down his face, as he desperately searched for a place to run, to no avail. Finally, Three let out a blast from his palm that blinded the two sole creatures that stood in the abandoned station. When Pickle’s vision returned to him, he was lying in a place different from which he stood when he was blinded. As he reached for the floor to get off the ground, he noticed something was obviously off, but could not quite place what it was, it was only after getting up and tripping over a piece of cloth strapped to his back that he began to realize what had happened. He saw himself walk towards him and stand over him, who then crouched down. “Hi Pickle, I’m sure you’ve realized what happened by now, but if you haven’t, allow me to explain in terms you’d be able to understand. The ancients’ power allowed me to switch control of our bodies. That means you’re me, and I’m you. And I love it in here.” Three, now taking the appearance of Pickle, let out a disgusting grin across his face that spoke words of its own. “As you can probably assume from that, that means I’m not changing us back. You better get used to being me.” Pickle was left wordless, in utter shock from all the events that had taken place before him. And yet, despite all of this, he couldn’t deny his inner desires. It seemed as though such desires were far more intense than ever, so much so that he was not even angry at Three for doing such a terrible thing. “Now then,” Three continued, “let’s continue, shall we?” With Pickle still on the ground, Three walked over to his feet, and sat down, legs crossed, in front of them. Pickle tried his best with his new stature to sit up, and by the time he did, Three had already removed his new shoes off his feet. He tried to struggle, but found himself barely even able to move his legs. “It’s best you don’t even try to struggle, Eight. To ensure that I could do whatever I wanted to you, I also made you a lot weaker for a short while. So you should just sit back, relax, and enjoy everything I give to you.” Pickle was still unable to speak, flustered at hearing his own voice echo at him. He was finally able to mutter words, but not in his own voice that he was so familiar with. “W-why? Why are you doing this?” Three released hold of Pickle’s feet, and once more stared at him with confusion. “Why? Because I’m really into you. And being you, I now know that you’re into me. And even when you’re in my body, your pants still speak louder than your words.” “I-it’s not like that! I have no control over that! I don’t like it! Stop, now!” Pickle begged and pleaded, but it was of no use. Three continued to grab Pickle’s feet, and began to rub them over and over. “You like that, don’t you?” Three muttered to Pickle, who could still barely sit up from the weakness forced upon him. “N-no.. I don’t! St-stop!” Three released hold of Pickle’s feet abruptly upon request. “Your wish is my command. Then let’s try something new, shall we?” Three once again grabbed Pickle’s ankle, but rather than rubbing his feet like before, he instead placed Pickle’s new foot in his mouth. Pickle once again cried for help and tried to pull away, but could not muster enough strength to overpower his own old body. Three placed Pickle’s other foot in his mouth, and crawled closer to Pickle, letting his slim legs glide down Three’s throat. As Three got closer and closer to Pickle, more and more of his new body was entering Three’s digestive track. After a very short while, all that was left outside of Three of Pickle was his head, which he was using to mutter his last words that he could. This didn’t stop Three, and Pickle was shortly fully inside of Three’s stomach. “I hope you enjoy yourself in there, I didn’t know my own body tasted so good…” Pickle was unable to bring the strength required to struggle inside of Three’s now bulbous stomach, and so he let the digestion take course. Before long, Pickle had been completely digested by Three, leaving only the new “Pickle” in his wake. He boarded the Deep Sea Metro, and set off to Inkopolis to take Pickle’s place. Pickle woke in a land different from what he was used to. His body had returned to him, but he was in a strange landscape that he had never seen anything like before. There were many craters, and it seemed to be a place where civilization had never occurred. When Pickle attempted to get up, he realized that his strength was rejuvinated. After a brief period of looking around, he saw a figure floating in the air, facing away from him. The figure, dressed in orange cloth, let out, craning his neck far to the right, “Another one, huh?” Category:Stories